


Of Englishmen and Demons

by koalaboy



Category: Constantine (Comic), Constantine (TV), Constantine: The Hellblazer (Comics), Justice League Dark (Comics), The Demon (Comics)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, english boys being gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 21:50:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14066325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalaboy/pseuds/koalaboy
Summary: John has a bad night and Jason is there for him.





	Of Englishmen and Demons

Jason jolts awake to an uneasy feeling in his stomach. It takes a moment for him to be fully alert and in his few seconds of sleepy confusion, he swears he can see a dark figure looming over him. His eyebrows knit together as John writhes about in his sleep. His body is damp with sweat, his nails dug into the palm of his hands, his face a mixture of pain and panic. He murmurs what is mostly indistinguishable garbage, but the few words that Jason can make out sound like a protection spell to ward off evil. Unfortunately for Jason, his lesser half, Etrigan, was considered evil. He can feel his unnatural desire to move away from John in the back of his mind and he wills himself to reach forward and place a comforting hand on his arm.

John flinches hard at the touch and with a cry of fear, strikes his elbow defensively into Jason's forearm. He bolts upright from the contact and pants heavily, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

"John, it's okay. It's okay," Jason says softly. He nurses the red mark John left on his forearm silently. Best not to make John feel guiltier than he already was.

"Shit," John murmurs, wiping the sweat from his upper lip with the back of his thumb, "Bullocks... _fuck_. Sorry. Nightmare."

"Again," Jason confirms.

John nods, staring blankly ahead as he catches his breath, "I'll shower. You go back t'bed, luv."

Jason lays back down in bed but keeps a close eye on John. He grows curious when he sees him go to walk out of their bedroom. They had an adjoining bathroom he could easily use to shower.

"Where are you going?"

John sighs, his fingers hovering over the door handle as if he was debating whether or not to leave and say nothing as he often did.

"The bathroom down the hall doesn't have a tub. This one 'ere does."

"What's the matter with that?" Jason asks, perching himself up on his elbow and peering at the other curiously in the dim light.

"When me mental health goes tits up, I see myself in that tub: bleedin' out... and it damn well is inviting sometimes."

Jason doesn't know what to say so he nods and lets John do as he pleases.

He lays awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling with his hands folded neatly just below his ribcage. He could feel his chest rise and fall with his steady breaths. John had never mentioned his mental health before except to joke. Jason had brushed it off as nothing too serious, now he wishes he had paid more attention.

John returns in a fresh set of clothes - his hair damp, but with fresh water rather than sweat and he smelled of soap. Those were good signs, at least. It was rare that John smelled of those things.

"Jace, m'gonna have a fag." John holds the packets of cigarettes out to him and makes a 'you want one?' noise. Jason politely declines. With a few words and a click of his fingers, John conjures up a flame to light his cigarette. The asshole could have just got a lighter, Jason thinks to himself, and he can't help but outwardly express his annoyance with a strained sigh.

John gives him a look but says nothing. His eyes are fixed on a point in the room, but his mind is somewhere else - somewhere much darker.

It's John who speaks first and breaks the silence. His words are a surprise and Jason almost flinches. He had been lost in his own thoughts, too.

"Everyone that I love dies."

An hour ago, Jason might have scoffed and told him not to be so dramatic, but now his face softens and his chest aches with a kind of empathetic sadness.

"Even my last boyfriend. Oliver, he-- damned to hell right in front of me an' his girls. An' every time I say to myself, 'Okay. No more. Not one more bloody soul'. But then someone comes along - then you come along - and suddenly I'm arse over tits for you. I can't help myself. It's a bleedin' fucking disgrace."

"It's human, is what it is," Jason corrects, " _Human_ , John."

John looks up from the ground for a moment and Jason can see the beginnings of tears in his eyes. He quickly makes his way over to the other man who had gone silent and still. It had been some time since someone had called John human.

"Lean into me," Jason commands in the gentlest way possible. He slinks his arms around John's figure and inches closer. "I know you're bitter about my being taller than you, but I'm positive you can do this."

John's cigarette dangles between his fingers. He hadn't lifted it to his mouth since he'd lit it. Some ash falls to the floor as John hesitantly leans himself into the other man. Neither of them was skilled at affection. John rests his head against Jason's collarbone and cringes at how uncomfortable it was; the feeling of closeness is, however, too overpowering for him to want to move.

"I'm here. And my lesser half is a demon; I'm almost one hundred percent sure I'll be seeing you in hell. That being said, I do not intend to go there anytime soon."

"That's the only reason I haven't offed myself yet - the fear of eternal damnation. As if I ain't already damned enough people."

It is clear that John's thoughts could only go down one path tonight and Jason struggles to come up with a counter-argument so, to both of their surprise, he kisses him. It's not a rough kiss; John's stubble hardly even burns Jason's chin and cheeks. There's something in it that says 'you better fucking stay alive' and John seems to understand it.

John rests more of his weight in to Jason, "Should we wag crime fighting for now? I'd like to stay a little longer in yer arms.”

Jason smiles, making no attempt to let go of John. He admires the soft light of the moon in the early morning and absently traces small circles over John’s back with his thumb. John turns his head slightly to take a drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke towards the ground. It still wreaks and Jason turns his nose up at the smell.

“What are you thinking about?” John asks. He wanted to think of something other than killing himself.

Jason looks down at the smaller man and his hollow cheekbones and eye sockets, his blonde hair, his kind eyes despite the harsh upper curl of his lip. “How handsome you are in the moonlight.”

John blinks slowly up at Jason and a sarcastic remark makes its way to his throat, but no further. He rests his head back on to Jason’s uncomfortable collarbone and suffers the slight ache of his cheek to be close to the other.

“You _will_ tell me if things get bad again, won’t you?”

John grunts – a sure sign that he wouldn’t.


End file.
